


Little Slice

by conniptionns



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conniptionns/pseuds/conniptionns
Summary: prompt: "don't worry about me"





	Little Slice

Neil Josten was tired.

It was approaching 9:30 at night and Neil had been running drills with the rookies all day. He was responsible for that now, as captain of his professional exy team. It was his job to bring the new team members up to snuff, and he was also in charge of honing his own game, because he was indebted to the Moriyama’s for as long as he proved an asset. It left him little time for relaxation or pleasure.

Typically, Neil arrived home and took a blistering hot shower. The stress of running drills from the sidelines and meticulously taking apart the tapes of the other teams, he hadn’t allowed his muscles to unclench or drop the tension that he carried in his neck and shoulders.

Neil’s head hit the tile in the shower and he let out a long sigh. It was long past time he allowed himself to relax, but by the time the hot water had eased the tension in Neil’s back, Andrew had climbed into his bed. They were older now and Andrew was not beholden to the Moriyama’s. He was now a social worker that was on call 24/7, and typically didn’t stay up late, on the off change one of his kids called in the middle of the night. Neil was endlessly proud of him, and there were a couple kids that Andrew texted with frequency, to make sure their situations never turned. He had been discussing possibly opening a group home with Neil, and was working with lawyers and Bee to make that dream come true.

Neil wanted to relax now though, before bed. He didn’t have practice tomorrow, which felt like the first time in forever. Neil slid his feet apart, dragging his toes over the rough grips in the bottom of the tub, watching the water run in streams over his shoulder and down his chest. He wanted something, but wasn’t sure how to give it to himself. It was Andrew that took him apart piece by piece, usually before Neil even recognized what it was he wanted.

Neil grabbed the little, mostly empty tube of lube and dropped it in his haste. It clattered against the bottom of the tub, landing between Neil’s feet; he swore softly, bending over to pick it up. His hard cock bumped against his stomach and Neil bit back a groan, fisting himself in his hand. He wanted, so badly, but he didn’t know how to reach it. He slicked his fingers and stroked a finger over the tight furl of his ass, slowly fingering himself open.

Neil’s breath came out in hot, little pants. He had worked himself up to two fingers when he just got…bored. Oh, he still wanted. He wanted so badly he thought he might bite through his lip, but he just didn’t know how to chase down that road himself. Maybe he didn’t know how to be turned on in the same way that other people did. This was a familiar road for him. Neil rolled his neck and stroked his hand over himself one last time before he turned off the shower.

He toweled off quickly and efficiently before stepping into his raggedy sweatpants. Neil stood in front of the sink, brushing his teeth when he looked up to where their mirror used to hang. When Neil and Andrew first moved in the apartment, a huge gilt mirror hung above the sink. It was a gaudy monstrosity, but Neil could forgive the unfortunate taste the landlord had. He couldn’t help flinching at his reflection every time he passed though, and not long after they moved in, the mirror disappeared. In its place was a crudely drawn photo of Neil with the cats sleeping on his face. It made Neil smile every time he saw it. It made him want, too. God but he wanted. He spat the toothpaste in the sink and composed himself before heading into the bedroom.

Neil climbed into the bed from the footboard and flopped down on his stomach next to Andrew.

“Neil,” Andrew said. “You look worn out.”

“Don’t worry about me. Go to sleep.”

Andrew didn’t go to sleep because he was a contrary son of a bitch. Neil wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to talk or he was just a shit and wanted to be difficult, so, after a pregnant pause, Neil lifted his head and looked at Andrew. He couldn’t see his face, but he could just make out that Andrew was lying on his side, facing Neil.

“Drew?”

Andrew reached out a hand and rested it on Neil’s shoulder, slightly lifting himself up on his other arm. His hands were warm and slightly rough. When Neil waited for him to lift his hand or start talking, Andrew firmed his grip and dug his thumbs into the tense muscles in Neil’s back.

Neil immediately tensed, and Andrew froze, but then he slowly eased back down into the mattress.

“Easy,” Andrew encouraged, and Neil took the advice and loosened his shoulders. He dropped his head and rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes, allowing himself to focus on Andrew’s touch. Andrew moved to sit right at the swell of Neil’s ass, so he could more easily get both hands on Neil’s shoulders. Neil’s dick started to swell and every shift of Andrew on top of him sent his face deeper into the pillow.

Andrew’s hands were warm and brisk and not gentle, but Neil felt his muscles easing under Andrew’s hands. What Andrew lacked in skill, he made up for in results. His movements were confident and he quickly found the knot that had lingered by the knob of Neil’s spine for days. Andrew’s hands started at the base of Neil’s neck, then worked his way down to his shoulders, and then down to the middle of Neil’s back.

Neil groaned helplessly at just how amazing it felt.

The constant weight of Andrew on top of him was making needy little grunts come out whenever Andrew shifted his weight on top of Neil. The next thing Neil knew, Andrew’s chest was pressed against Neil’s back and he asked, “Is this okay?” right at Neil’s ear.

The weight of Andrew lying on top of him made Neil feel helplessly needy. He couldn’t stop moving; rubbing his face against the pillow and grunting. The feel of Andrew pressing against every inch of him, coupled with his voice in Neil’s ear had Neil shoving his face into the pillow and groaning out the affirmative.

“When was the last time you got off?”

“Fucking shit, Andrew.”

With Andrew settled above him, Neil could relax down into the sheets in a way that he hadn’t unwound in ages. He loved the span of Andrew’s chest pressed against his back, the way the mattress would sink where Andrew’s knees bracketed Neil’s hips, the curve of Andrew’s fingers over his shoulder, bushing his collarbone.

“Yes or no?” Andrew asks.

Neil surges up, lifting Andrew for the brief moment that he stubbornly refuses to move, then turns, allowing Andrew to sit on his hipbones, weight mostly distributed to his knees. Andrew’s hair is mostly dry, but it has the fluffy little curls that tell Neil he probably showered an hour before he got home. Neil’s hair is still plastered to his forehead from his shower, but the ends are starting to curl up. They would curl faster if Andrew got his hands in his hair. Neil misses that, Andrew’s hands pulling at his hair. He wonders why Andrew isn’t kissing him yet, he’s just looking down at Neil with a look that Neil can’t decipher in the dark. Neil’s fingers dart forward and snag the waist of Andrew’s sleep pants, tugging him closer. Andrew rocks back away from Neil, just barely grazing his dick and Neil bites out a whimper.

“Yes or no, Neil, I need you talking to me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Neil chanted.

Andrew gives him biting kisses and ignores Neil when he tries to buck his hips up to get some friction. He just shifts his weight off his knees so he’s sitting astride Neil so he can’t move his hips. When Neil’s arms falter by Andrew’s sides, Andrew reaches out, bracketing both of his wrists in his strong hands and pressing them into the bed above Neil. When Andrew looks around for something to tie his hands with, Neil starts kissing Andrew’s throat, effectively distracting him.

Neil is content to linger there for a long time, not stopping until Andrew makes noise. Neil’s mouth is on Andrew’s collarbone, gentle and then insistent. Andrew starts making those hurt little noises that Neil was looking for and after a few moments, Andrew’s hands tighten around Neil’s wrists and he starts to move.

“Can I put my mouth on you? Yes or no?”

Neil’s hips strain against Andrew as he desperately searches for friction against his sweatpants. “You want to blow me?”

“I want to eat your ass.”

Neil was at a loss for words. He wanted but he wasn’t sure that he knew how to tell Andrew. He keened prettily for Andrew in the hopes that Andrew would understand what he meant. Andrew grabs Neil’s wrists and pins him against the bed so he can’t writhe against the sheets anymore.

“Answer me,” Andrew commanded in a husky voice. If Neil hadn’t already been hard, that would have done it. Neil thought he might choke on his tongue or tear apart at the seams if Andrew didn’t hold him together. He didn’t just want anymore, he _needed._

Neil’s hands grasped uselessly at nothing in Andrew’s grip. He had to beg for it, but he didn’t have the words to beg and plead in words that made sense other than ‘please,’ but Neil would rather die than use that word to request anything of Andrew. Neil just repeated ‘Drew’ over and over again.

And then, Andrew’s hands were gone and so was his weight on Neil’s hips.

Neil found his words then. “Yes, Andrew. Yes, yes, yes. I need you to—I need—I—fuck.”

“Use your words.”

Neil still couldn’t see Andrew in the dark, but he felt that voice. It sent a chill down his spine and all attempts Andrew had made to relax him were ruined. He was wound so tight that he was going to explode the moment Andrew touched him. Neil was so _frustrated_ , and here Andrew was, making him give a fucking dissertation just to get his hands on him.

“I need you to hold me,” Neil said before hastily adding, “if you can. I need you to take me apart, while you hold me together. _Fuck._ Andrew.”

“Okay,” Andrew said, humor apparent in his voice. He drags Neil sweats down to his knees and prompts him to roll over onto his stomach. Neil slides both hands under the pillow and fists the sheets in his hands. Andrew is somewhere behind him—he can feel him moving on the bed, but Andrew isn’t touching him.

And then his hands are on Neil’s hips, pulling them up just enough to slide a pillow underneath. Andrew spends a lot of time getting Neil arranged, making sure he’s situated comfortably. For someone who spent a lot of time making sure he wasn’t perceived as being soft, Andrew sure did take as many steps as possible to make Neil feel soft and feel like he was burning alive with need. By the end of Andrew’s little detour, Neil has two, mostly flat pillows under his hips, angling him up. Andrew sits low between his legs and puts both of his hands on Neil’s ass, making Neil clench beneath him.

Neil turns his head to the side so he’s not muffled by the pillow. “Go wild.”

Andrew presses his finger against the tight furl of Neil’s ass and makes an obscene noise when he feels the lube there. Neil lets out a breath, harsh and heavy, and then Andrew’s lips are where his finger was, kissing him. Neil whimpers and Andrew opens his mouth, just a little, making him wetter.

Neil doesn’t know whether to thrust his hips into the pillow or press back closer to Andrew’s mouth. He ends up pulling his knees closer to his chest, tilting himself further into Andrew’s mouth. Andrew grabs his left ass cheek and spreads him open, then reaches over and clasps Neil’s right hand in his.

Andrew’s hand is in his and he feels soft, and his mouth is on Neil’s asshole and it feels amazing. Neil thought he wanted to be held down and taken apart, but Andrew was rarely this soft with him and Neil didn’t want to miss a second of it.

Neil bites his lip, counts to five in English, then French, then German, and struggles to make it there in Russian because Andrew’s tongue is in his ass. Neil breathes in through his nose, and pants it out through his mouth. He pushes back against Andrew’s mouth, and Andrew lets go of his ass to smack it and Neil chokes on his spit.

Andrew pulls back, letting go of Neil’s hand, to press kisses against his ass and waits for Neil to get his breath back. When Andrew puts his mouth back on him, Neil reaches back and grabs a fistful of Andrew’s hair and tugs on it. Andrew groans. He groans with his tongue inside Neil, and Neil writhes under him. Andrew grabs hold of his hips, to keep him still, and he works him open enough so that his tongue can fuck into him.

Neil’s lips are swollen from biting them. He tightens his grip in Andrew’s hair. “Yes,” he gasps, through wet lips. “Yes,” over and over, with Andrew humming against him in response.

Neil comes hard, shaking with it, thrashing beneath Andrew, eyes squeezing shut. The world slows for a moment or two, before Andrew speaks.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

Neil things about getting sassy and responding that Andrew’s hot, but instead, he rolls over onto his back.

“Keep talking,” Neil orders.

Neil hears the lube uncap and then the squeeze of the bottle. He’s only just gotten his breath back, but he’s getting breathless again. He can hear the slide of Andrew’s hand on his dick and the soft crumple sound of his sleeves rubbing against his shirt at his torso. Neil curses.

“You look amazing. You’re so pretty, baby. When you come—god.”

Neil lights up like a Christmas tree when Andrew calls him baby. It’s so soft and it’s a side of Andrew that only Neil gets to see.

“You’re so flushed.” Andrew’s hand speeds up. “And I can’t see you but I know how good it looks on you, you look so good, and I did that to you. Getting you off is my favorite fucking thing in the entire world.”

Neil’s dick is trying valiantly to perk up and show its interest, and Andrew knows that hearing him talk like this gets him so hot.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” Andrew asks.

“Liked what?” Neil slurs his words just a little bit.

“You liked it when I fucked you with my tongue. Loved it even, didn’t you?”

Neil can only moan in response.

“I could spend hours with my head between your legs, rimming you, sucking you—fuck—making you come then getting you hard again. Feel your legs wrapped around me when I fuck you. You letting me hold you down, keeping you there, you wanting it—wanting me.”

“Drew, I always fucking want you. You like when I like it.”

“I like that you—I like—I want you to like everything. To do only things that you like. Things that feel good, so good, too good.” Andrew was panting in the dark room. “Tell me what you want.”

Neil tries not to choke, again, in his haste to respond. “Come here.”


End file.
